I was challenged to write a description of a good childhood experience, and I came up with this, about making crowns of flowers by threading stems together... I just wish blogger would let us give form, shape, to the poems instead of lining everything up on the left.
The aluminum glow of dawn disappeared
into
the storm-distant sky.
Pulling cup after cup, they yellow flowers
dotting the field of vision
brighter than that sun.
I say a prayer of thanks.
Thumbs fumbling, fingers knocking
struggling happily to
find the green thread.
My known life on the edge,
I pretend normalcy,
threading stem after stem.
And the thrill of a completed crown
so simple, so true.
For the time being,
I sit in joy - the child I want to be.
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